Choosing Sides
by luvscharlie
Summary: In times of war, we must all decide where our loyalties lie. Will Rabastan Lestrange, a handsome Death Eater, persuade Fleur Delacour to join Lord Voldemort? Originally written in response to a challenge at erotic elves on livejournal


_Choosing Sides_

**Rabastan Lestrange:**

"I won't do it, Rodolphus."

"You will do it because the Dark Lord wishes it to be done."

"What possible use could He have for some slag at Gringotts? I've been watching her for weeks, Rodolphus. Delacour will not come over to our side as long as that blood traitor Weasley is fucking her over his desk."

"She is involved with the Weasley boy?"

"She's not getting the buttons torn off her shirt from doing his filing. Why does the Dark Lord want her?"

"Perhaps she could feed us information on the Order," Rodolphus said, more to himself than Rabastan. "It is not your place to question why the Dark Lord feels the need to have someone inside of Gringotts, Rabastan. It is your place to do what He says and not question why."

"Perhaps if one of us had questioned why, we wouldn't have spent so many years in Azkaban, brother," Rabastan spat, stomping from the house to complete another pointless day of surveillance.

There were many more months of surveillance before the plan was put into motion and, by then, Rabastan despised the haughty French girl. Nonetheless, he followed orders and sent the owl.

**Fleur Delacour:**

Fleur Delacour received an owl from Bill Weasley asking her to meet him at a Muggle restaurant. She was surprised it had taken him this long to ask her out on an "official" date.

She waited at the restaurant, if one could call it that with its peeling leather booths and grease covered tabletops, for well over an hour. She had never been rejected, not by any man, and in the hour she waited she became angrier and angrier that Bill had the audacity to stand _her_ up. Men waited with baited breath in hopes she would bestow a smile upon them. Bill Weasley waited months to ask her out, choosing to shag her at the office instead _he could forget that happening again_, and then did not bother to show up for their first date.

She left the restaurant angrier than she could recall being. It was the last thing she remembered before someone stepped from the shadows and her world went black.

Fleur was torn from the darkness of her unconscious mind by a horrible smell. She opened her eyes to find she was lying on a soft bed atop pretty floral sheets. Her mind was fuzzy and her head was pounding. An unfamiliar man was sitting beside her on the edge of the bed. He removed something akin to Muggle smelling salts from beneath her nose and set them on the bedside table.

"Feeling better, dear?"

"What happened?" she asked.

"My apologies, Mademoiselle Delacour."

"Who are you and how do you know my name?"

"Of course, my dear. It was rude of me not to introduce myself before. My name is Rodolphus Lestrange and this is my brother, Rabastan." He inclined his head to indicate a rather handsome man with dark hair, ice blue eyes and a nice build.

"Mr. Lestrange," she questioned Rodolphus, "why have you brought me here?"

"Told you she was a bit slow." said Rabastan.

"Rabastan," said Rodolphus, in a warning tone.

Fleur held her head in her hands attempting to stop the dull thud pounding in her temples.

"Does your head hurt, dear? Rabastan can bring you something."

"I will not play fetch and carry for the little princess. You wanted her here. Do it yourself, brother. I've done my part."

Fleur gave him a look that she hoped reflected her contempt, as it cost her pounding head a great deal to make the effort, before looking back at Rodolphus and announcing, "I do not like him."

There was a loud guffaw from Rabastan, "Believe me, Princess, you are not my favorite person either."

"You do not even know me," she shouted at him.

"Not too difficult to figure out a shallow little thing like yourself. A stupid little bint, who is so full of herself she thinks no man can resist her charms."

She did not typically care what people thought of her, particularly people she had only barely met, but Rabastan Lestrange was rather infuriating. She rose from the bed, intent on pummeling that nasty smile from his face before Rodolphus pulled her back. "Hold on, dear, you're probably still a bit weak."

She stopped attempting to get her hands around Rabastan's neck, at the wisdom of his brother's words. The bastard would only laugh more if she fainted in her attempt to throttle him. She turned her attention back to Rodolphus, who was glaring at his younger brother. Fleur decided she definitely liked this brother best.

"Mademoiselle, please forgive Rabastan's rude behavior. He has apparently forgotten how to treat a lady."

She heard Rabastan snort in response to his brother's statement. He clearly did not approve of Rodolphus making apologies for him. Rabastan's cold blue eyes held her own for a moment as he glared at her. In response, Fleur flashed a brilliant smile, which she hoped clearly conveyed her amusement at him being called down like a child in her presence.

Rodolphus took Fleur's hand, "We have brought you here because the Dark Lord recognizes what a great asset you could be to our cause. I ask only that you hear us out."

Rabastan snorted again mumbling the words, "Asset, ha, that one's naught but a liability." The muttered words drew a seething look from Rodolphus followed by what appeared to be a painful cuff to the back of Rabastan's head.

"Mademoiselle, will you join us for dinner and allow me the opportunity to convince you that this is the right side for talents such as yours? You are much too valuable to be wasting your time on wizards such as the boy you were waiting for tonight, much too special for the likes of him."

Fleur was still upset with Bill and she readily consented to having dinner with Rodolphus and some of the Dark Lord's other followers. She rationalized that it certainly could not hurt to hear them out. Besides, she found Rodolphus' company to be rather pleasant.

"Rabastan, go and tell the house elf one more will be joining us for dinner, and find something more suitable for our lovely guest to wear. I'm sure she would like to freshen up before dinner."

Rabastan's fists clenched at his sides. "I will not play house elf for bloody birds who think they should be treated like princesses because they have nice tits and a nice ass. Do it yourself, brother."

Fleur noted the look exchanged between the two handsome men, and bit her lip to keep from laughing aloud when Rabastan gave in to his older brother's demands. Rabastan's eyes met her own with a look that would have terrified most people. Fleur simply found it amusing.

Rodolphus shook his head in an exasperated manner at the door through which Rabastan had exited. "Please ignore my hotheaded, stubborn brother. Do you have siblings?"

"_Oui_. A younger sister."

"Then you know the frustrations of being the eldest child. I do hope, for your sake, that your sister is a bit easier to get along with than my hardheaded brother."

"_Oui_," she said agreeably. She smiled sympathetically at him, feeling certain it would be beneficial to ally herself with Rodolphus Lestrange. He seemed to need something from her, and instinctively she knew she would be relatively safe as long as he did.

"You are most gracious. I will leave you to enjoy a warm bath, and Rabastan will bring you some clothes. I am sure you would like to rest up before dinner, as he tells me you did not eat at the restaurant." Rodolphus gave an exasperated sigh, "My dear, I am sorry. I wasn't thinking. Forgive me for being so insensitive."

She smiled at his kind words and patted his hand, letting him know she wasn't angry. "I think I would like a bath and something for a headache."

Rodolphus summoned a house elf, who quickly appeared with a potion for her headache. She took it and thanked him for his kindness. He smiled and she thought he was quite handsome when he smiled.

When her head finally ceased its pounding, she entered the adjoining loo. A hot bath sounded wonderful. She put some scented soaps into the luxurious tub and turned on the taps, inhaling the aroma as bubbles rose from the perfume scented water.

Fleur removed her last piece of clothing just as Rabastan burst through the door. She squealed and attempted to cover herself with her hands. "Get out! Gentlemen knock rather than barging in, you know."

Rabastan sneered at her. "Don't flatter yourself, Princess. You're not my type."

_Not his type? Not his type? She was part Veela, and Veela were every man's type. Every man, it seemed, except Bill Weasley and Rabastan Lestrange. _She made no further attempt to cover herself and closed the distance between them. He attempted to back away from her, as his eyes widened at her boldness. W_e shall see how little I affect you._

Rabastan continued backing away from her, but his feet became entangled and he fell on his arse. Fleur took advantage of his misfortune and dropped to her knees straddling his hips, grinding against his groin and feeling him harden beneath her. She smiled knowingly at the feel of his erection. "I think your prick likes my type."

Fleur watched his face for some indication of his next move, and smirked at the desire evident in his eyes. He wanted her; she had won. She leaned forward to kiss him, and he raised his chin to kiss her back. She closed her eyes, attempting to unfasten his robe. She felt his hands grasp her hips and his warm breath on her face before he shoved her roughly from his lap, dumping her unceremoniously on the floor when he stood. "Like I said, princesses-" he looked down on her with a snort of disgust, "-or girls who think they should be treated as such, are _not_ my type. I actually prefer women who have a brain in their head, you know, a bit of substance. Not that you would know anything about substance."

"You egotistical, self-absorbed, pain in the-"

And with an infuriating smile and a shake of his head, Rabastan slammed the door behind him before she could complete her litany of insults.

The warm bath no longer looked inviting. She washed quickly and dressed in the clothes _that man_ had left on the bed. The dress was a frilly pink thing, but it fit nicely, molding itself to her curves. It pushed her breasts together and up, so that they almost spilled from the top of the dress, and clung to her hips drawing attention to her nicely shaped bum. Beside the dress, however, Rabastan had left a tiara. She would show him. She would wear it, and play the part of the princess to perfection.

She placed the sparkling silver tiara upon her head and was about to head downstairs for dinner when Rabastan entered, once again without knocking. He gave looked her up and down smirking when his eyes rested on the tiara. "Yes, I thought it would suit you. No reason for pretenses. We should all come dressed as we truly are, don't you agree, Princess?"

"And yet, I do not have a troll costume for you," she said, smiling at him in a sickeningly sweet way.

"Oh, you are a witty one," he said sarcastically.

"Your brother seems to think so," she chimed, keeping her voice in the same false-sweet tone.

"My brother will bed anything that moves. You shouldn't take it as a personal compliment." The handsome man leered at her. "The last girl who willingly went to his bed was almost as pathetic as you."

"Pathetic?" she shrieked at him. _Oh, he had gone too far. She may be a lot of things, but Fleur Delacour was not 'pathetic', not by any means._

"Quite," Rabastan responded.

She stood before him, hands on hips, and stomped his toe grinding her stiletto heel into his foot.

"OW! Bloody hell, woman. That hurt."

"Good. Someone needs to teach you some manners."

"I will be the teacher tonight, Princess." Rabastan grabbed her by the arm and spun her around to face him. "You haughty little bitch."

"You insufferable bastard." She stood toe-to-toe with him, not willing to back down an inch, though the anger evident on his face was quite terrifying and terribly exciting.

"Let's see how long that bravery lasts, shall we?" Before she knew what he intended, he tossed her face down on the bed. She had never met a man as frustrating, as infuriating...as desirable. He seemed immune to her Veela charms, which only intrigued her more.

Rabastan sat down on the bed and hauled her over his knee like a naughty child, yanking up the frilly dress and running his hands over her knickers. She was anxious to feel him touch her, though she was sure he would only become smugger when his fingers dipped between her legs and felt the moisture pooling there. How was it that someone who enraged her so, also had the ability to leave her wet and dripping across his lap? She was jolted back to reality as the palm of his hand landed with a sharp sting across her bottom. She hadn't known what to expect from him, but it was certainly not this. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Spanking a spoiled little princess, who is so richly deserving of the punishment."

She struggled against him, but he held her tightly, so that she was unable to free herself and brought his heavy hand down across her bare backside over and over before hooking his finger in the waistband of her knickers and dragging them down her thighs ignoring her protests as she struggled to keep her backside covered.

The first hard slap against her bare bottom resounded with a loud pop, followed by a howl of pain. "Stop it this instant. That hurts."

"It is supposed to hurt, and I have no intention of stopping until your arse is so sore you can't sit for a week." He punctuated the statement with several extremely hard blows to her bare skin, pulling her hair and bruising her chin when he yanked her head back to force his tongue into her mouth. Her legs flailed in a desperate attempt to escape the stinging slaps, and she attempted to protect her tender backside by covering it with her hands. He pushed her hands away with little difficulty and held her more firmly across his knee, never ceasing his rhythmic slaps.

His assault on her backside was harsh and unrelenting. No one had ever dared treat her in such a manner. Although tears coursed down her cheeks at the pain, her blood was boiling with passion, and she was certain she would combust if she did not find release soon. _How could something hurt so badly, yet feel so good?_

He brought his hand down even harder still three times in quick succession, causing her to squeal loudly. He yanked a handful of her hair pulling her head back, his breath in her ear as he whispered. "Do you want me to stop, Princess?"

She nodded. "Yes." _No, but I'll die before I admit it._ She sucked in her breath when his fingers stroked between her legs, finally giving her a taste of what she so desperately wanted. But, it was only a taste. His fingers only stayed a moment, leaving her yearning for more. He pressed his fingers coated with her juices against her lips. "So this is what you do when you dislike something," he taunted, as he forced them into her mouth.

She bit down hard making him scream in pain as he jerked his hand from her mouth. "You will pay for that." When he spanked her this time, he showed no mercy. Within seconds, her bottom was on fire, and she was certain she would not be sitting on it for much longer than the week he had threatened. She wriggled in a half-hearted attempt at escape from his lap. "Let me down you big oaf."

He twisted her arms painfully behind her back. She shivered when his breath tickled the back of her neck. "Beg me, and I will slide my fingers inside your wet cunt and make you come."

"I do not beg."

"Have it your way, Princess."

She braced for the spanking to resume, and was surprised when he ran the tips of his fingers roughly over her sore bum before rolling her off of his lap, so that she was face down on the bed. He used his wand to secure her wrists to the headboard and each ankle to a bed post, forcing her legs apart, before vanishing her clothes, as well as his own.

She protested loudly and struggled against the magical bindings, but they held her tightly in position and once again, she was aroused by her lack of control. He stood beside the bed and ran his fingers down her back and over the swell of her bottom, making her moan with desire when his fingers dug into tender flesh.

He laughed at her reaction, "I can see how much you _hate_ my touch," he said mocking her, as his fingers once more flitted ever so briefly between her legs.

"Untie me, you bastard."

"What fun would that be? Besides, you don't really want me to untie you." His finger flicked back and forth across her clit.

He climbed onto the bed, knees pressing against the backs of her thighs. His breath was warm against her back as he licked a trail up her back to her shoulder and again to her ear. She whimpered as the weight of his body pressed down painfully on her thoroughly spanked and sore arse.

Rabastan grasped her chin hard enough to leave a bruise and forced her head back. He captured her lips forcing his tongue between her lips. She returned his kiss eagerly, wanting more.

His hands moved under her body to tease at her nipples, as she writhed against him seeking more of his touch. His hands blazed a trail of fire over her body, as his teeth nipped the tender skin of her neck and shoulder. She felt the head of his hard shaft at her entrance sliding against her wetness as she attempted to push back onto him unsuccessfully. "Untie me," she whined.

He ignored her. "Do you want my cock?" he whispered.

"_Oui_," she whispered, somewhat ashamed of how strongly her body reacted to his touch. She had never wanted someone so desperately.

"Beg," he said.

Her pride struggled to the surface, but her voice was weak when she replied, "I will not."

He pushed the head of his cock inside of her, and pressed his thumb tightly against her clit. His free hand resumed her spanking, slapping at her arse and the backs of her thighs.

"Do you want more, Princess?" he whispered. The tiara she had worn earlier had slipped from her head at some point during her earlier spanking, and he placed it back on her head.

She rolled her hips as much as her restraints would allow, attempting to bury him more deeply inside her, but the bindings held her firmly in place. He pushed his thumb more tightly against her clit causing her to cry out in ecstasy, then twisted it between his thumb and finger bringing her just to the apex of an orgasm, and pulling his fingers away, refusing to give her release.

"Merlin, please don't stop. So close."

He stroked two of his fingers along her outer folds, and squeezed her clit between them, as his tongue dove into her ear. "See what happens when you ask so nicely," he whispered, driving his cock into her a bit more. He shoved a finger into her mouth. "Get it wet." She ran her tongue around it getting it thoroughly wet before he pulled it back from her, parted the cheeks of her arse and began to rub at her puckered hole.

She let out a startled, "_Oui_," at the waves of pleasure from the combined rubbing of her clit and arse while his cock stretched her. A string of broken, incoherent French slipped from her lips as she teetered once more on the brink of orgasm.

"Beg me to fuck you or I will stop and leave."

"I will not beg." She was sure he was bluffing. No man had that kind of self control.

Much to her surprise, he started to withdraw his cock from inside her and ceased rubbing her with his hands. "_Non. Non._ I'll-I'll do it. Please, please."

He buried his cock so deeply inside her she could feel his bollocks slapping against her. She squealed as his large cock stretched her. He did not recommence the ministrations on her clit and arse, however, and she whined hoping he would do so without forcing her to ask. It was too much to hope for. "Please," she whined.

"You can do better than that, Princess." He rubbed once at her clit, as he ran his tongue up her spine. "Tell me what you want."

Her voice was barely a whisper, "Touch me again."

"Say the words. Admit you want me." He punctuated the sentence by spreading the cheeks of her arse and lapping at her opening with his tongue, before inserting one finger alongside the cock that was inside of her to gather her juices. She moaned in ecstasy, as he worked the finger in and out of her in rhythm with the thrusts of his cock. When it was slick with her wetness, his finger rejoined his tongue between her cheeks, teasing it around her opening, while she struggled beneath him.

"Do you want it?" he asked inserting only his fingertip. "You only have to say the words if you want it, Princess." He wiggled his finger for emphasis.

"I- I want you."

He shoved his finger roughly inside of her tight opening, and more incoherent French escaped her lips as her entire body shuddered with the force of her orgasm.

He drove his cock in and out of her wet heat, the force of his thrusts slamming his body against her abused bum. He emptied himself inside her and collapsed against her back. He flicked his wand removing her bindings as he whispered, "Join us, Princess, and there is so much more I will show you."

Her hand fisted in his dark hair, capturing his lips in a brutal kiss. "Show me."

Fin


End file.
